


Deal

by butterycornbread



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Implied Relationships, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterycornbread/pseuds/butterycornbread
Summary: Junko and Byakuya enjoy their little talks.
Relationships: Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	Deal

He moves silently through the school. Every movement is precise. He does not fumble or stumble. He stalks, poised like the predator that he is. The apex predator. He cannot hear through the sound-proofed walls, but he can smell them in their rooms, can practically feel the warmth of those weak, imperfect bodies. Breath. Heartbeats. A whiff of fear; nightmares, perhaps, or even some innate instinct as these sheep sense that a wolf walks among them. A killer.

He doubts any of them are shrewd enough—barring the violet-eyed girl, potentially—to guess what he truly is. He has not volunteered the information. None of them know anything about him, in fact, except . . .

Byakuya stops. Always, when he makes these nightly rounds, he finds himself pausing at this door. The same door. Behind it, he knows, Makoto is curled up beneath his blankets, tossing and turning and mumbling the night away. It would be enough to keep him awake, if Byakuya could sleep. Still, he thinks Makoto does sleep easier now, in their small hours of embracing. Makoto does not fear him.

It’s one of many stupid things the human boy does.

Sharply, he turns and strides away. Stairs are nothing. This school is nothing. After all his time on this earth, this cannot surprise him. It’s a game just like everything else. Survival. A game he has won, again and again, for decades.

Really, Makoto is the only surprise out of all this. An unanticipated weakness.

He lets none of these thoughts show on his face. He doesn’t knock on the door. It’s been learned, by now, that he expects it to be opened without need of knocking. Even as an immortal, he does not appreciate his time being wasted.

Junko opens the door and smiles. “Right on time, as always. Splendid! Did you have any trouble finding the place? Might I interest you in a spot of tea?”

Byakuya stands among the computer monitors and says nothing. He knows how frigid his gaze is and does nothing to warm it as he stares at her.

She shrugs cheerfully. “Suit yourself!” She slams the door without a care and drops into her chair. Watching this chit swivel about in the throne of a mastermind disgusts Byakuya enough that he’s actually moved to speak.

“You make for a pathetic queen of this castle.”

Junko abruptly stops spinning by slamming her feet to the floor. “You’re damn straight.” She aims finger guns at him. “Which, speaking of, is exactly why I called your ass up here. Pull up a chair.”

He does not pull up a chair.

She waves this away. “Here’s the ice cream scoop. _You_ know about my organization. _I_ know you’re probably not much of a joiner. _But._ ” She suddenly stands up, eyes gleaming with an intensity so far unseen in her. “I’ve been doing a shitload of thinking and I think I wanna recruit you.”

Byakuya cannot be surprised. In truth, he suspected this was her intention from the start, from that first night she had the bear guide him straight to her little lair. He knows she isn’t having these meetings with the others. This is an offer only for him. Proof that he’s special.

He schools his features. “And why do you suppose I would ever want to work for you?”

Just the words nearly draw a scoff from him. He is worth billions. He is the head of an elite empire and has been—in and out of the public eye—for generations. He is not the child he appears to be. He is a king.

Junko’s eyelids grow heavy and her lips tug into something like a smirk. “You want to know?”

He glowers at her. A Togami does not repeat himself.

Slowly, Junko walks around him. He does not turn to face her. He stands with his arms crossed over his chest and stares straight ahead as she circles him, takes in the details of his body as if this is an auction block, nodding to herself all the while as if satisfied with her purchase.

Then, from behind, he feels her breath tickle his ear.

“You remind me of . . . me. You enjoy it, don’t you?” He can hear her heartbeat, this close, can feel how very alive she is even as her voice dips low and dull. “You don’t see things like the others. You don’t belong with them. I never belonged.”

He thinks of his siblings, the defeat. He thinks of his employees, the envy. He thinks of his classmates, the . . .

Scorn. Fear. Confusion. Hatred. Distrust. Deceit.

Friendship?

“Don’t tell me you don’t see it,” Junko goes on. “I saw it. You don’t react to death like those normal, hopeful people. You wrote in his blood.”

Byakuya swallows thickly. His throat scrapes, so very dry. It’s been a long time since the last killing. He remembers the sweetness he sucked from his fingers . . .

“You solve these mysteries, but you do it differently than our resident detective. You do it for a different reason.” Junko slips her hands around onto Byakuya’s chest. “You like playing my game.”

He turns his head slightly, but does not try to look at her. “And you would use me.”

“Mmm. _Use_ isn’t a very happy word.” Her hands slide lower, over his abdomen. “But there’s so much potential for despair in you. You have it in your veins, instead of blood. I can smell it.”

He doesn’t doubt that. The girl is nothing more than unhinged. But, then again, could she also be . . . right?

“I know you’re not into following. But, also, I have more experience in this particular area. So I think, for a compromise, we should be. What’s the word.” Her finger dip past his belt. “Partners.”

In less than a second, he has her pinned against the wall, a hand locked around her throat.

Of course, she’s not surprised. “Ah-ah-ah,” she chides, voice warped by his iron grip. “You know the arrangement. I die, they die.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just stares down into her eyes so she knows with certainty: he could end her game right now. He could have on any of these nights. She is not his master, and she is not his partner. Never will she nor anyone else here ever be his equal.

Junko raises an eyebrow. “I know your type. You want to read the fine print before you sign. I get it, man.” She turns, as much as she can under his strength, toward the monitors. “I got all that straightened away. Prepared a little incentive for ya, to show how much I care.”

_Don’t look._

_Do not look._

Byakuya cuts his gaze to the screens. By now, he knows exactly which one to look for.

The room is shadowy, but it isn’t difficult to make out the glowing red of that cursed bear’s evil eye, nor his too-wide half grin, nor his claws gleaming wickedly sharp over Makoto’s face.

He’s always peaceful-looking, in sleep. His mouth is slightly open now. He’ll probably wake up with a wet spot on his pillow.

If he does wake up.

“See, really,” Junko says, casually walking her fingertips from Byakuya’s stranglehold, up his arm, across his shoulders. “I’m being super generous with my offer. I could just make you do whatever I want, but no. I’m _asking_ , not telling. Aren’t I so so so nice?”

Weakness. It sickens him anew. He should just tell her to kill Makoto, cut out this piece of blackmail before it’s used against him for something truly ruinous. He doesn’t _want_ to harm the other students; if he did, he would already have done it. If nothing else, they are a valuable resource. After all, if there’s no more blood, what is he to do? Slow until he cannot move, fall into a deep sleep, fade away until nothing more remains of Byakuya Togami?

“They’re gonna find out what you are eventually,” Junko remarks. “But, you know, I was thinking, it would be a pretty good motive . . .”

Byakuya releases her, backing away. Does she know how to kill him? Would she tell the others? Fear is death. He can last another few days. Another killing will come, surely. Another corpse for him to drain in a place inconspicuous enough that the gloved girl won’t notice. And then . . . he’ll be waiting again. And again.

What if it’s only himself and Makoto left?

How long can he control himself?

“And what,” Byakuya says, voice full of black ice, “would you have me do?”

Junko doesn’t seem to mind the angry red mark fading in on her neck. She twirls some hair round her finger. “Well, I was thinking about my deal with Sakura. And I was thinking about how things have been getting pretty lame lately. So, like, do you think you can do me a solid and off somebody?”

Byakuya stares down at her. He will give her nothing. He will not let his face show that he is now thinking on repeat _not him not him please not him please—_

“I’m getting kinda tired of the serial killer,” Junko says. “Like, she doesn’t even want to kill anybody. How crazy is that? I wanted her to go for you, actually, but I guess these things are always unpredictable. But for real, I don’t want people outside to watch her and think she’s turning into a good person or some shit.” Her demeanor shifts and she crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m getting fucking sick of waiting, so you wanna make up your mind, pretty—”

Byakuya puts out his hand.

Junko blinks. “You’ll do it? No convincing needed? I had more arguments prepared.”

He arches an eyebrow ever so slightly.

Junko grabs his hand and pumps it. “Fan-fucking-tastic. Welcome aboard! You’re hired! And you know what, frame whoever you want. Of course, I know who I’d pick, but you know, we are partners. Consider free will a sign-on bonus. Oh, and hey.”

Byakuya pauses in the doorway.

Junko drops back into her chair and solemnly observes him. “In these trying times, I just want to remind you.”

Foolishly, he waits.

Junko grins ear to ear, but the light of it doesn’t touch her eyes; they’re just as dead as he is. “B positive, baby.”

Byakuya makes sure to slam the door behind him.


End file.
